What a thing friendship is - World without end.
Better have failed in the high aim, as I, Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed As, God be thanked! I do not.
Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.
There is nothing so unpardonable as to consent to a senseless, aimless, purposeless life.
Truth that peeps Over the glass's edge when dinner's done.
Though Rome's gross yoke Drops off, no more to be endured, Her teaching is not so obscured By errors and perversities, That no truth shines athwart the lies.